Heart-Self Sword
Hong Geolgae was restless the entire time.
His conviction was that meals should always be obtained through begging. But since the three of them were traveling together, the idea of begging from his companions was absurd no matter how he thought about it.
In the end, Hong Geolgae compromised with reality.
Deciding he should at least pay for his meals, he would occasionally vanish and return with ingredients: small fruits, a few bird eggs, even a pheasant once.
Each time he came back with food, Goiyi would silently glance at Tang Mujin.
Calmly. Yet with a trace of unease.
"Why do you look at me like that?"
"No reason."
"I'm not the strange one—it's him. I mean, how the hell does someone catch a pheasant barehanded?"
"Would it be too much to hope you were that strange too?"
"A venerable monk once told me, if your greed goes too far, you'll fall into the Black Ox Hell. You'd best be careful."
"Oh-ho! Wise words that pierce bone and flesh. Thanks to you, my afterlife will be peaceful. Did the monk also say that if you fail to respect your elders, you'll fall into the Ice Hell?"
"I may not respect, but I can certainly attack…"
The two of them bickered as they prepared dinner, while Hong Geolgae quietly watched. He could gather food, but he wasn't skilled in cooking.
Combining what they had received from Jueul Village with what Hong Geolgae brought, the three of them managed to eat a decent meal even deep in the wilderness.
When they finished, Hong Geolgae asked:
"So… where exactly are we going?"
At that moment, Goiyi suddenly clapped his hands and stood up.
"Well now! Incredible, Hong Geolgae. Were you a genius all along?"
"Huh?"
Hong Geolgae blinked in surprise, and Goiyi turned to Tang Mujin with a mocking grin.
"You see? That Tang brat has followed me all this time without asking once, but you—on your very first day as a companion—ask the very thing he never thought to. Excellent. Very clever."
Only then did Tang Mujin realize he had been following Goiyi without ever knowing their destination.
He had been too fascinated by the circulation technique he'd just learned, pouring every spare moment into it.
And besides, his goal wasn't to arrive somewhere with Goiyi, but to follow him and learn.
So long as he stayed with him, that was enough. And in truth, it wasn't a wrong thought.
"I simply had complete faith in you, Master. To the point I never even needed to ask."
"Of course you did."
"All right, enough. So where are we going?"
"To Henan. More precisely, to Luoyang."
"Luoyang?"
Henan was very far away. Past Sichuan, through Chongqing, and across Hubei.
Tang Mujin had wondered if they were leaving Sichuan as they kept heading east—and it turned out he was right.
"What business do you have in Luoyang?"
"Plenty. There are people I must meet, personal matters to tend to. And it will be good for you as well. If a man wants to develop his talents and learn, there's no place like Luoyang."
Goiyi rambled on about Luoyang and Henan, how it was the very heart of the Central Plains, and how moving just a little in any direction would bring one into contact with great sects and clans.
But the real issue wasn't how splendid Henan or Luoyang was.
"How are we getting there?"
Sichuan was famous for its perilous mountains, so steep that people said entering or leaving Sichuan was harder than climbing to the heavens.
"We'll walk to Chongqing, then take a boat from there."
The Yangtze River.
Traveling by the Yangtze was one of the few, and most common, ways in and out of Sichuan. More than eight out of ten merchants used it.
The Yangtze was the lifeline of the Central Plains, stretching for over ten thousand li, with fertile lands along its banks and countless cities dotting its course.
In other words, simply following the river allowed one to see most of the famous places of the realm.
Tang Mujin grew excited at the thought of seeing the renowned Three Gorges, and Hong Geolgae, too, looked expectant.
"Master, may I travel with you at least until we reach Chongqing?"
"Somewhere you need to go?"
"I heard my teacher's hometown was Chongqing."
"Really? I thought old Ma was from Jueul Village."
"I heard he only came to Jueul when he was young."
Goiyi frowned, as though something nagged at him. After a moment's thought, he nodded.
"Fine. We're heading to Chongqing anyway. Travel with us for now."
As the conversation wound down, Tang Mujin raised his hand.
"What now? Do you also have a place you want to go?"
"Not that. I just want to learn the way of the sword."
"About time. Go make three wooden swords."
With that, Goiyi tossed him a short dagger.
It wasn't meant for woodworking, but Tang Mujin didn't mind.
He went into the forest, dragged back a thick piece of deadwood, and sat down. It was thin for three swords, perhaps enough for one.
As he set it down, Hong Geolgae asked:
"Should I fetch more wood?"
"No, it's fine."
"Want me to help? Three swords will take a while."
From the side, Goiyi remarked:
"Just watch. Won't take long."
So Hong Geolgae sat beside him, ready to lend a hand if needed.
But what he saw was nothing like ordinary woodcraft.
A normal person making a wooden sword would trim branches, plane the wood straight, and slowly carve it into shape. Even done well, it would take time.
But Tang Mujin simply stood the block upright and split it longwise, as though chopping firewood. Like a child ruining material in his impatience.
…That's ruined. We'll need another block.
So Hong Geolgae quietly went back into the forest. Dry wood was plentiful; he returned in no time.
But when he came back, he froze.
Beside Tang Mujin were already two finished wooden swords, solid and well-made.
"…What the hell?"
Goiyi chuckled.
"Told you it wouldn't take long. Sit tight and watch. That brat's better at hammering iron and carving wood than he is with needles. Before long, you'll see the heart-self sword for yourself."
Hong Geolgae, thinking he'd just watch whatever was happening, stared intently at Tang Mujin's hands.
Tang Mujin gripped a long block of wood in his left hand and casually cut at it with the dagger in his right.
His movements looked halfhearted, but with each stroke of the blade, the shape of a wooden sword emerged.
Hong Geolgae couldn't believe his eyes.
It didn't look like someone carving a sword—it looked more like someone casually peeling fruit. Slice, slice, effortlessly.
No—that wasn't even it. It looked as if he were splitting open a pea pod to reveal the beans inside.
Unless someone had hidden a finished sword inside that block of wood, there was no way a sword should appear like that.
Believe it or not, the third sword was finished in the blink of an eye.
Tang Mujin tossed one to Hong Geolgae, who examined it with suspicious eyes.
Nothing was wrong with it. It was just a cleanly made, sturdy wooden sword. Even the grip was smooth, without the slightest splinter.
How can freshly carved wood be this flawless?
Hong Geolgae glanced around, feeling as though he'd witnessed sorcery. But no one else seemed to find it strange.
Goiyi swung one of the wooden swords a few times, then grinned.
"Good. This will do. Time to begin. The sword art I'll now teach you is called the heart-piercing sword ."
Tang Mujin raised his hand.
"Isn't that kind of a plain name?"
"Names lose their edge if they get long. The shorter and simpler, the better. And the heart-piercing sword is the truest name there could be for a sword art."
He thrust the wooden sword forward at chest height. The motion was extremely simple.
"刺 (to pierce), 心 (the heart), 劍 (the sword). In the end, the purpose of every sword art is to pierce the enemy's vital spot and kill them. Whether the sword point soars like a dragon or splits into five shadows—those are all just frills."
This time, Hong Geolgae raised his hand.
"Am I learning this too?"
"I didn't give you a sword for nothing. But if you don't want to, you can step aside."
"It's not that I don't want to. I was just wondering."
Really, who could refuse in this situation? Goiyi's martial skill against Ja Yangssangsal had been so overwhelming that everything Ma Jeonggae had taught seemed trivial in comparison.
Whether that strength came from Goiyi himself or from the heart-piercing sword, Hong Geolgae couldn't know.
But one thing was certain: opportunities like this didn't come often. Martial artists were stingy with their teachings.
"First, I'll show you the opening forms of the heart-piercing sword. Watch carefully."
Goiyi demonstrated the initial forms. He didn't move fast, since the purpose was instruction.
The problem was that his movements flowed without a single break. Tang Mujin couldn't even tell how many forms there were.
After a brief display, Goiyi lowered the tip of the wooden sword to the ground and spoke.
"There. You saw it, right?"
"So… I just swing the sword in that order?"
Goiyi gave him a look that said, What a shocking idea! Expecting mockery, Tang Mujin quickly cut in.
"I know nothing about martial arts. Isn't it natural I'd wonder about that?"
"Even if you know nothing, there's such a thing as common sense…! Hah. Well, fine. You might not know."
With a touch of sarcasm, he continued.
"Think about it. If someone just repeated set movements in the same order, do you think anyone would ever die to them?"
"Then how should it be done?"
"You master each form until you can bring out the right one at the right moment. The order doesn't matter."
He swung the sword again.
This time, the sequence was completely different. Yet the movements were still simple, still flowing, and Tang Mujin could faintly recognize pieces of the first demonstration woven in.
He realized that Goiyi was rearranging the order of the forms.
"Of course, mastering the forms isn't easy. Each requires the flow of inner energy, and even small differences in how you move your muscles make huge changes. There's a vast gulf between a sword wielded with understanding and one that just imitates the shape. Watch this."
Goiyi thrust the sword twice in quick succession. To the eye, they looked almost the same. But even Tang Mujin could sense they were different.
As he continued, Goiyi spoke again.
"Do you remember what I asked when I first took you in?"
Tang Mujin nodded. It was a vivid memory.
'Your limbs are sound, so that's fine. How much medicine have you studied? Have you read the medical texts?'
'If you've the talent to memorize the Treatise on Cold Damage to that degree, you'll have no trouble learning martial arts.'
"You said it was about the Treatise on Cold Damage—that intelligence was what mattered."
"Right. What matters is realization. A sharp mind can find insight from the thinnest clue, while a dull one can't even recognize it when realization sits on their shoulder. So tell me—how does one gain realization?"
Tang Mujin shrugged. Having never held a real sword before, he had no answer.
"The two most common ways are these: shut yourself away in seclusion and swing the sword endlessly, or find opponents and clash blades with them. In my experience, the latter is far more effective. Pressure and desperation sharpen the mind."
Goiyi still swung as he spoke. The movements repeated, but every connection between them shifted, creating constant variation.
At last, he let the wooden sword fall loosely to his side. Despite the ferocity of his movements, he wasn't sweating, and his breathing hadn't faltered.
"So by now, you must know what I'll have you do."
"…No idea."
Goiyi pointed his sword at Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae.
"Every evening from now on, you two will fight until one of you collapses. One will sleep sprawled out on the ground, unconscious."